18 September 2013

timpeltje: (Default)

I was struck on the head. I couldn't see what object it was or who the assailant was. In an instant, my body responded to its brain shutting off and it moved down ungraciously, creating a pile of flesh not dissimilar to the mighty blobfish

With consciousness finally incapacitated, my subconsciousness (whose name is Jimmy) was finally free to run amok. He hadn't been this free in years, because I don't usually receive blows to the head, no matter how much I would like it to (let this not be a golden ticket to anyone reading this to randomly start trying to knock me unconscious - reserve a time for that with my secretary). 

If consciousness had been awake, I'd have been amazed by Jimmy's ability to take over control. I must have taught him quite a bit unknowingly; he just picked up my body and started walking as if nothing had happened (*note to self: try and keep bodily movements out of Jimmy's sight*). His behaviour seemed normal, composed, unlike the last time he was free, though that was while I was still wearing nappies and I hadn't quite figured out how to avoid using those anyway. 

Jimmy, used to his unconscious worlds of majesty and eternal dreamlike possibilities, seemed quite upset that I couldn't swim. He contemplated going to a tall building to start a flight around the world. Lucky for me, he remembered overhearing a video I once watched of failed inventor Franz Reichelt, the man who jumped off the Eiffel Tower with a self-invented parachute and met a rather unfortunate end. 
"If that contraption didn't help him, then maybe no contraption would be even worse?" Jimmy mumbled. 
Wondering how he ever managed to fly in dreams, he was disheartened by the limitations of the Everyday world around him. 

No running around naked? Well, not that he was stopped doing so. He stopped himself because of an unfamiliar emotion: a chilly wind reduced the body's er..... "sesquipedalian oaken dong" into a scared turtle retreating in itself. "Now what's the fun in that?" Jimmy decried. 
Anything he could think of that he ever saw in dreams always seemed to have an incredible downside to it. 
"I don't understand how someone consciously would want to be conscious," mused Jimmy, "it's not even a nightmare, at least that's an extreme. This all just seems so... grey..."

Having explored a few options, Jimmy concluded that his world was paradise compared to this place. If he'd have had to wait much longer, it's probably likely that an Eiffel Tower jump would happen anyway. 

I was slowly coming back to my senses and just in the short transition phase, my consciousness and Jimmy were able to share a few thoughts...

"Hey Timmy! So glad you're back, man! This conscious world isn't all its cut out to be."
"Jimmy? You took over? You know that's against the rules!"
"Hey! Drastic situations call for drastic measures! I saved you, you know!"
"You did? How?"
"I fought heroically against your assailants and beat them to a mushy pulp!"
"A mushy pulp?"
"Yeah, and then I flew away on your unicorn!"
"My unicorn? You're lying to me, you scoundrel!"
"OK, OK... so I didn't really save you."
"I'm sorry... let me make it up to you!"
"Go to sleep, you'll see! It'll he greatest adventure you'll ever experience! No rules, no limitations!"
"Alright, thanks! Can't wait!"

*Timmy crawls under sheets, suckles thumb and dozes off...*